


Home from Sea

by sahiya



Series: Irondad Bingo 2019 [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Depression, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Irondad Bingo 2019, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Past Character Death, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Peter Parker, Suicidal Thoughts (sort of), Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 20:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19471243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sahiya/pseuds/sahiya
Summary: So much had happened while Peter had been gone. Mr. Stark had a daughter. Happy and May had fallen in love. The world had kept spinning without him.Just like it would keep spinning without Pepper Potts. Pepper Potts, who had snapped her fingers to save the universe and died in Mr. Stark’s arms.





	Home from Sea

**Author's Note:**

> With deepest apologies to Pepper Potts, whom I love. For the "character death" square on my Irondad Bingo card. 
> 
> Thanks to Fuzzyboo for beta reading! Title is from Robert Louis Stevenson's poem [Requiem](https://poets.org/poem/requiem).

Morgan Stark would not stop crying. 

She’d been quiet through the funeral, holding Mr. Stark’s hand as they laid a wreath at the spot by the lake that had been Pepper’s favorite. She’d stayed with Happy or May during the reception, when Mr. Stark was busy receiving people. She’d eaten a plate of May’s hamburger casserole and fallen asleep in a corner of the couch. 

Mr. Stark had carried her up to bed. He hadn’t come back down. 

That was twenty hours ago. He still hadn’t come back down, and Morgan hadn’t stopped crying for the last four. 

Peter didn’t know what to do. He was the only one who didn’t know Morgan at all, and she shied away from him. Happy and May and Rhodey––who had all known her since she was born––took turns trying to soothe her, while Peter hung back and felt utterly useless. 

So much had happened while he’d been gone. Mr. Stark had a daughter. Happy and May had fallen in love. The world had kept spinning without him.

Just like it would keep spinning without Pepper Potts. Pepper Potts, who had snapped her fingers to save the universe and died in Mr. Stark’s arms. 

“I want Mommy,” Morgan wailed. 

“I know, baby,” May said, rocking her back and forth where they sat on the couch. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

“She said she’d come back. She _said_ ––”

“Oh honey,” May whispered, clearly heartbroken. Morgan wailed, and it pierced Peter’s ears. He wanted to flee outside, but instead he gritted his teeth against the sound of Morgan’s cries and gripped the edge of the kitchen counter until his knuckles turned white.

Colonel Rhodes came down the stairs. “Any luck?” Happy asked him. 

He shook his head. “He won’t get out of bed. Won’t eat, would barely drink anything. He’s just... shut down.”

“He can’t just shut down,” May said, standing up with Morgan in her arms. Morgan sobbed quietly now, exhausted and disconsolate. “No,” she insisted, when Colonel Rhodes and Happy both turned to look at her. “He has a child. He doesn’t get to shut down.”

Colonel Rhodes sighed. “Maybe he just needs some time to himself.”

May didn’t look pleased by this answer. “Did he talk to you?” she asked. 

“Not much.” 

May frowned. “What did he say?”

Colonel Rhodes crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know if I should––”

“What did he say, Rhodey?” Happy interjected. 

Colonel Rhodes sighed. “He said, ‘I’m done.’”

Silence, aside from Morgan’s exhausted, hitching breaths. “Daddy,” she whispered. 

Peter saw May’s arms tighten around her. “No,” May said. “That is just––no. He doesn’t get to be done. When you have a kid, you don’t get to just lie down and––” She closed her mouth on the last word. 

_When you have a kid, you don’t get to just lie down and die._

“May,” Happy said quietly. 

May was clearly near tears. Colonel Rhodes swooped in and took Morgan from her, which caused a fresh round of wailing. He shot Happy a look and took Morgan outside. The door banged shut behind them, muffling the sound of her crying. 

May started sobbing brokenly. Peter moved to comfort her, but Happy got there first, wrapping her up in his arms. She hung onto him, burying her face in his shoulder. 

Peter stood there, superfluous. As useless to May as he was to Morgan. 

After a moment, he turned and walked down the hall to the room he’d been told was his––not just a guest room, but _his_. He went inside and shut the door, then sat down on the bed. It had a bright red comforter with blue pillows. Dark blue curtains hung over a window with a view down to the lake. He could see Colonel Rhodes walking the shoreline, Morgan in his arms.

He didn’t know if it was nice or sad that Mr. Stark had been holding a space for him for all these years, like he was waiting for him to come home. He wondered how Mr. Stark felt about it now. He’d seemed really glad to see him when he’d hugged him in the middle of the battle. But that was... before. 

Now, _after_ , the price seemed awfully high. 

It was too much to think about. Peter lay down and turned his head to look out the window. Colonel Rhodes was still pacing the shoreline, Morgan draped listlessly over his shoulder. But if she was still crying, not even Peter could hear her from here.

***

Peter ventured out for dinner. 

The living room was quiet. Morgan had finally sobbed herself to sleep. She was laid out on the sofa, tucked under a comforter with a cartoon character Peter didn’t recognize and a bedraggled stuffed otter. 

They ate reheated funeral leftovers at the kitchen table. May’s face was pale and blotchy, her eyes red from crying. Colonel Rhodes and Happy just seemed worn out. 

After they were done, Colonel Rhodes took a plate of food upstairs. Peter started doing the dishes, while Happy and May discussed moving Morgan upstairs to her bed. 

Colonel Rhodes came back down empty-handed. He went to the fridge and got a beer. Then he looked at Peter and got one for him, too. 

“Technically, you’re twenty-one,” Colonel Rhodes said. “And it has been a hell of a day.”

Peter had to agree. He opened his beer and took a sip. It was... okay. Not the best thing he’d ever had, but not the worst either. 

May paused when she came into the kitchen and saw him drinking it. But then she held her hand out and said, “Give me some of that.” Peter handed it over. She took a swig and handed it back. 

Happy came back down from putting Morgan to bed and fetched a beer for himself from the fridge. The four of them looked at each other––or rather, Happy, May, and Peter looked at Colonel Rhodes. 

“I’m gonna give him until noon tomorrow,” Colonel Rhodes said. “And if he’s not any different, we’re gonna take drastic measures.”

Peter didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded ominous.

Happy cleared his throat. “Do you think it’d be better if we took Morgan and went to a hotel? Or back to the city?”

“The city’s a mess right now,” Colonel Rhodes said. “As for a hotel... I don’t know. Maybe it’d be better for her to be somewhere else.”

“No,” Peter said. 

The three of them looked at him. Peter realized it was the first thing he’d said in hours. Morgan had started screaming, and Peter had gone silent without even realizing it. 

“No,” he said again. “She just lost her mom. Her dad is... not here. She feels abandoned. Taking her out of her home is only going to make it worse.”

He couldn’t have said how he knew that, but he did. To his surprise, no one questioned it. They just nodded. 

“We’ll take the upstairs guest room again,” Happy said, glancing at May. May nodded. “So we can be there if she needs us in the middle of the night.”

“Thanks,” Colonel Rhodes said tiredly. 

Happy and May went up to bed not long after. Peter expected Colonel Rhodes to go, too, but instead he got himself a second beer and sat at the kitchen table. Peter still had half of his left, so he joined him. Neither of them said a word. 

Peter had had so much to say, before. Now it felt like all his words had just disappeared. Dried up. 

“For almost as long as I’ve known Tony,” Colonel Rhodes finally said, “I’ve known I might lose him. A couple of times I thought I had. You can’t really prepare for something like that, but I guess I tried. I’ve imagined it more often than is probably healthy. But _this_?” He shook his head. “I never imagined this.” 

Peter didn’t have anything to say to that. After a minute or two, Colonel Rhodes stood up. “You need anything, kid?”

Peter shook his head. 

“Then I’m gonna turn in. Get some rest, all right?”

Peter nodded, but he didn’t go to bed. He sat at the kitchen table, listening to the house. This house didn’t creak or hum like the compound had. FRIDAY wasn’t in every wall here, just in certain places. 

It was safe here, he discovered, to let his senses go. He focused on his hearing, and heard the lake lapping at the shore, the hoot of an owl and the croak of frogs, something shuffling around by the garbage cans outside. Underneath it all, leaves rustled softly against each other in the night breeze. 

Colonel Rhodes was in bed, but he wasn’t asleep yet. Upstairs, he heard the slow, steady breathing of three people who were all asleep. May, Happy, Morgan. 

Mr. Stark, in the master bedroom directly over the kitchen where Peter sat, was not asleep. He was awake, and he was crying. 

He was crying very quietly; even Peter had to strain to really hear it through the layers of house that separated them. But there was no mistaking the sound. Peter’s own eyes got hot in sympathy. He swallowed, wishing that he felt able to go upstairs, wishing he thought that Mr. Stark would accept any kind of comfort from him. But if he wouldn’t take it from Colonel Rhodes, why would he take it from Peter? 

And that wasn’t all. 

He was afraid, Peter admitted to himself. He was afraid that Mr. Stark regretted bringing him back. 

He didn’t know how he’d live with it if that were true. The suspicion alone was almost unbearable. Having it confirmed would wreck him. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to leave Mr. Stark alone in his grief. Even if he didn’t know Peter was there—even if he wouldn’t have wanted Peter there if he did know—Peter felt like he had to stay. So he sat at the kitchen table, forcing himself to listen, until eventually––hours later––it stopped. 

***

Peter got up late the next morning. Part of it was the late night he’d had; he hadn’t slept until nearly four in the morning. But he also just... didn’t want to. Yesterday had been a hard day. Today was probably going to be just as hard. 

But other people had it harder than him. He had to try and be useful today, he decided, and dragged himself out of bed. He showered and dressed and shuffled out of his room. 

It was nearly noon already. Colonel Rhodes was the only one in the kitchen, drinking coffee at the table and reading something on his tablet. “Good morning, Colonel Rhodes,” Peter said quietly, going to pour himself a cup. 

“Just call me Rhodey, kid,” he said, glancing up from his tablet. 

Peter nodded in acknowledgment. “Where is everyone?”

“Tony’s exactly where he has been. Happy and May took Morgan on a walk.”

“How’s she doing?”

Rhodey sighed. “Better than yesterday, thank God. She’s sticking to your aunt like glue.”

“May’s done this before.”

“She has. And Morgan knows her really well. May and Pepper were close.”

Peter tried to imagine this and mostly failed. May and Pepper had barely known each other when he’d been dusted. They’d met once or twice, but mostly just hello and good-bye when Pepper came with Mr. Stark to pick up or drop off Peter. 

To hide his disorientation, Peter busied himself adding cream and sugar to his coffee. He went to sit at the table. “Is there, um, anything I can do to help?”

“Funny you should ask,” Rhodey said, and pushed his tablet aside. “You remember how I said yesterday that I was going to give Tony until noon today and then I was going to take drastic measures?”

“Yeah.” Peter glanced at the clock. It was 11:56. “What kind of drastic measures are we talking?”

Rhodey pointed at him. “You.”

Peter blinked. “Me? I... don’t think he’s going to want to see me.”

Rhodey’s mouth twisted. “Tony only wants one thing right now, and he can’t have it. Barring that, I think he’d like us to leave him alone in that room until he wastes away, but I won’t let him have that, either. He needs to remember that Pepper’s sacrifice was for something incredibly important. You are a living, breathing reminder.”

Peter wrapped his hands around his coffee mug to try and ground himself. “Do you think he still thinks it was worth it?”

Rhodey looked at him sharply. “I can’t tell you what he’s thinking, but I can certainly tell you that _Pepper_ thought it was worth it. Any of us would have. It happened to be her, but we were all prepared to do what we had to. Understand?”

Peter nodded jerkily.

Rhodey’s face softened. “I know this is asking a lot, and I wouldn’t ask it of you if I thought there was another option. But, Peter, I don’t think you understand just how special you are to him.”

Peter shrugged, looking away. “He has Morgan now.”

“Do you think Morgan would exist if he hadn’t met you? I don’t, and I’ve known Tony for over thirty years,” Rhodey replied. “He loves you so much. Please, kid. For Tony and for Morgan, but also for Pepper, because she wouldn’t want this. You know she wouldn’t.”

There was no way to say no to that. Peter had to clear his throat twice before he could speak. “Okay. Should... should I take anything with me?”

“A bottle of water, maybe,” Rhodey said. “I’ve been trying to pour whatever I can into him so he doesn’t get too dehydrated, but I’m sure it isn’t enough.”

Peter got a bottle of water from the fridge. He paused at the bottom of the stairs, steeling himself. No matter what Rhodey said, he was still afraid of what Mr. Stark might say to him. But Rhodey was right; this was not what Pepper would have wanted. And Morgan needed her dad. So if there was any chance that this might help, Peter had to do it, even if he ended up getting his heart broken. 

He climbed the stairs. He paused at the top, realizing abruptly that he hadn’t yet been on the second floor of the house. Morgan’s door––which had her name on it in wooden letters––was in the middle, and through one open door, Peter could see Happy and May’s suitcases. Through another he glimpsed a sink and a toilet. That really only left one option.

The door knob turned under his hand. Peter eased the door open. “Mr. Stark?” he whispered. 

There was no response from the lump in the bed. The room was dark and stuffy. Peter wrinkled his nose. 

First things first, then. Light and air. 

Peter went over to the window and opened the blinds about halfway––not so much that it’d be a shock, but enough that the room felt less oppressive. Then he reached behind them and shoved one of the windows open. The breeze that came through smelled of lake water and growing things. 

Mr. Stark still hadn’t moved. Peter turned to face the bed. “I have some water for you,” he said, keeping his voice low. Still no answer. Peter wondered if he was actually asleep. 

He sat on the unoccupied half of the bed. Pepper’s half, he realized, and noticed that Mr. Stark had pulled all the pillows from that side over and buried himself in them. 

Peter bit his lip. If Mr. Stark wouldn’t talk to him, then he’d just be here, he decided. In case he changed his mind. 

He lay down on the bed, curled up on his side, facing Mr. Stark. He reached out until he managed to find a lump that he was pretty sure was Mr. Stark’s hand and covered it with his own. “You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to do anything. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

There was the tiniest movement––like Mr. Stark had sighed. 

“Yeah, I know I’m a pain in your ass,” Peter said. “Too bad you’re stuck with me.”

There was no response at first. Then Mr. Stark pushed the pillows aside and adjusted his head so he was looking at Peter. 

He looked terrible. His face was gray and his eyes were rimmed with red. There were dark circles under them. The lines around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes were deeper than usual. He looked old and tired, and it made Peter feel a little sick, seeing him like that. But Peter managed a small smile for him anyway. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Mr. Stark replied, eyes meeting his. His voice was hoarse. 

He reached out. Peter held still as he cupped the side of Peter’s face with his hand, thumb sweeping over the arch of his cheekbone. Peter couldn’t help pressing into it, eyes closing.

“I missed you, Pete,” Mr. Stark whispered. 

Peter opened his eyes. Mr. Stark’s eyes were swimming with tears, but the way he was looking at Peter––

It almost assuaged the fear that’d been sitting like a rock in Peter’s stomach for days. Almost.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter whispered, blinking back tears of his own. 

Mr. Stark sighed. “Call me Tony, kid. Please. I think we’re way past any kind of formality here.”

Peter nodded. “Okay.” He swallowed. “You want to maybe sit up? Shower?”

Mr. Stark–– _Tony_ ––didn’t answer for a moment. Then he said, in a threadbare voice, “I don’t know if I can do this. Any of it. The idea of today and tomorrow and the next day, without her, I just...”

Peter pressed his hand over Tony’s, where it was still cupping his jaw. “No one’s asking you for tomorrow or the next day right now. All I’m asking you to do is sit up, drink some water, and take a shower. Brush your teeth while you’re at it. If you want to get back into bed after that, I won’t stop you. But you stink and so does this bed.”

Tony snorted out a laugh, and then abruptly cut it off, looking startled. Peter smiled at him. “It’s okay to laugh,” he said, remembering how he’d needed May to say that to him, after Ben died. “Please?”

Tony’s eyes had never left Peter’s face. He nodded. He sat up slowly. Peter handed him his glasses and then the bottle of water off the nightstand. Tony sipped once, and then took a longer swig. He made a face. “You might be right about brushing my teeth.” 

“That was always May’s minimum expectation when things were bad after Ben died,” Peter said, sitting cross-legged on the bed. “Even if we didn’t do anything else that day but lie around watching terrible Lifetime movies, we had to brush our teeth.”

Tony nodded. The water bottle was half empty. “How are things downstairs? I... I heard Morgan yesterday.”

“She’s doing better today, Rhodey said. She’s out with Happy and May.”

Tony nodded. He looked toward the window, blinking in the light. “I’m a terrible father.”

“What the––no, you’re not.”

“I am. What kind of father listens to his daughter sob like that for hours on end and still can’t pull his shit together to get out of bed and comfort her? She’d be better off with May and Happy.”

Peter sucked in a breath. “Say that again and I will punch you in the nose,” he said flatly. Tony looked at him, obviously shocked. “You’re a good father, you just need some extra help right now. But you don’t get to––to declare yourself a bad dad and shove her off onto other people.”

Tony actually looked shame-faced. “You’ve barely seen me with her. You don’t know that I’m a good dad.”

“Yes, I do.” Peter took a deep breath. “Let’s be real here––you were parenting me before I got dusted, even if we never said it, which makes me one of only two authorities on the subject. I think you’re a great dad. And the other authority seems to worship you.”

Tony shook his head, turning his face away again. “That was all Pepper. She made me so much better than I ever thought I could be.”

Peter didn’t know what to say to that. Maybe there wasn’t anything. Instead of speaking, he put his hand on Tony’s foot and squeezed it gently. Tony wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and Peter reached for the box of tissues on the nightstand. He nudged them at Tony until he took them. 

Neither of them said anything as Tony finished his bottle of water. Peter kept his hand on Tony’s foot, grounding them both. 

When he was done, Peter took the water bottle back from him. “Shower? Please? I’ll change the sheets. If you want to get back in bed once you’re done, I won’t argue with you about it.” 

Tony nodded. He got to his feet, a little unsteadily. Peter prodded him into gathering a change of clothes from his dresser, and he shuffled into the bathroom. 

Peter’s phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number. _How’s it going up there?_

Peter saved the number as Rhodey’s, then replied back, _He’s in the shower._

_You’re a goddamn miracle worker, kid. Do you think he’d come down and eat?_

_I don’t know. I’ll try._

Peter had promised he’d change the sheets on the bed, so he did that, with one ear turned toward the shower. Tony had looked pretty out of it, and he was kind of worried he might fall. But everything sounded okay as he fitted the fresh bottom sheet over the mattress and then flipped the top sheet out over it. The comforter needed to be washed, but just in case Tony really did want to get back in bed––and Peter was hoping he didn’t––he put it back on the bed. 

He left the pillowcases.

He was clearing away trash that had accumulated on Tony’s nightstand when the water turned off. Peter heard the shower door open and listened for the sound of Tony brushing his teeth. 

When it didn’t come within about thirty seconds, Peter dropped the waste basket he was holding and knocked on the bathroom door. “Tony?” Peter said. No answer. He hadn’t locked the door, which meant Peter didn’t have to break it. He opened the door, heart beating too fast. 

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Tony, dressed in boxers and a t-shirt, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet. “Tony?” he said again, stepping inside. 

Tony looked up at him, blinking rapidly, which didn’t do a lot to hide the fact that he had tears coming down his cheeks. “Sorry,” he muttered. 

“Don’t apologize, just answer me when I call for you, okay?” Peter said. “You scared me a little.”

“Sorry,” Tony said again, then seemed to realize what Peter was implying. His eyes widened. “Oh God, kid, I wouldn’t do that to you. Whatever you were thinking. I wouldn’t.”

“Okay,” Peter said, relaxing. “So, um. What happened?”

“Nothing,” Tony said, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Nothing happened. I’m just a fucking mess, that’s all.”

“Hey,” Peter said, stepping closer. “It’s okay. You can be a mess.”

“I can’t be a mess,” Tony said bitterly. “You said it yourself, Morgan needs a dad.”

Peter winced. “I might’ve been too harsh. Yeah, Morgan needs a dad––she needs _you_. But we’re all here for both of you. Me and Happy and May and Rhodey. We want to help you any way we can. No one expects you to not be a mess. May and I were both disasters for months after Ben. We barely held it together. But we got through it.”

Tony looked up at him. Tears clung to the end of his damp eyelashes. “How?”

Peter shrugged. “We got out of bed, even when we didn’t want to. We tried to be there for each other as much as possible. That’s all anyone can do. And we all want to do that for you right now. So you be Morgan’s dad. We’re here for everything else.”

“Not forever,” Tony said, glancing away. “At some point you’ll leave.”

“No,” Peter said firmly. 

Tony raised his eyebrows at him. “You have to go back to school.”

“Not for a while. And when I do, we’ll work something out. If you need me here, then I’ll be here. I’ll do my senior year online, I’ll defer college, I’ll do whatever I need to.” 

Tony was staring up at him, mouth slightly agape. “I can’t ask that of you, Pete.”

Peter met and held his gaze. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not waiting for an invitation.”

For a moment, Peter thought he might’ve overstepped. But then Tony tipped forward, resting his head against Peter’s stomach. Peter wrapped his arms around him. “I’m so glad you’re back,” Tony said, muffled.

Peter closed his eyes. Whatever doubts he still had vanished. “Me too.”

***

Some of what Peter had said must have sunk in, because Tony didn’t go back to bed, even though Peter left the option open. He put on a pair of jeans and followed Peter down the stairs. 

Peter had been so laser-focused on Tony that he hadn’t heard May and Happy return with Morgan. But they must have at some point, because Morgan was sitting at the table, eating lunch with Rhodey, while May and Happy puttered around the kitchen. 

“Daddy!” Morgan said when she saw him, and immediately shoved her seat back from the table. She scrambled down and threw herself at Tony. Tony caught her, sweeping her up to hold her against his chest. She wrapped all her limbs around him. Tony closed his eyes, and for just a split second, the grief dropped away, and he looked like the Tony Stark Peter had known five years ago. 

“I missed you,” Peter heard her whisper. “I missed you _five thousand_.”

“I missed you, too,” Tony said in a choked voice. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

Morgan pulled back and looked at him, her face very serious. She put her hands on either side of his face. “Aunt May said you were sick. Are you better?”

“A little bit,” Tony said. “I’m just really sad.”

“Because Mommy isn’t here anymore?” she whispered. 

“Yeah.” Tony kissed her on the forehead. “Because Mommy isn’t here anymore.”

“I’m sad, too,” Morgan said, laying her head on his shoulder again. “But Aunt May says that’s okay. It’s okay to be sad.”

Tony’s face crumpled. “Yeah,” he said, holding her tighter. “That’s right, baby. It’s okay to be sad. And I’m so glad that you’ve had Aunt May and Uncle Happy taking care of you, but I promise I’m going to be here from now on, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, and buried her face in his neck. 

Rhodey seemed to decide it was time to intervene, appearing at Tony’s elbow. “Hey, Tones,” he said gently. “Why don’t you come sit down on the couch? Morgan can finish her lunch, and we’ll get you some food, too.”

Tony nodded. Rhodey steered him over to the sofa. Peter hung back, feeling kind of extraneous again, but also kind of exhausted. That was a _lot_ of responsibility he’d just taken on. What if it hadn’t _worked_? What if he’d made it _worse_?

Something of what he was thinking must have shown on his face, because May was suddenly right there, next to him. “You okay, kiddo?” she asked.

Instead of answering, Peter dove into her arms. “Oof,” she said, and wrapped him up tight. He buried her face in the side of her neck, not unlike Morgan had with Tony. “I’ve got you,” she said. “You did good, baby.” 

“Thanks,” he mumbled. May rubbed her hand up and down his back, and slowly the feeling that he was about to start bawling lessened. 

When he surfaced, Tony was sitting with Morgan on the couch. She was eating a sandwich, and he had a smoothie in his hand. Peter realized abruptly that he hadn’t had anything to eat yet, and that might be at least part of why he felt so unsteady. 

“Can I have something to eat?” he asked, looking at May. “I think my blood sugar is tanking.”

“Oh shit, yes,” she said. “I was making mac and cheese or––”

“There’s some leftover smoothie,” Rhodey said, reaching for a cup. “Here you go, kid. Jesus, I’m sorry, I didn’t even let you eat this morning before sending you upstairs.”

“It’s okay,” Peter said, accepting the cup of smoothie. “I wasn’t hungry earlier.” He sucked on the straw, tasting orange juice, bananas, strawberries, and a faintly artificial vanilla flavor that was probably protein powder. 

“There’ll be mac and cheese in just a minute, Peter,” May said, turning back to the stove.

“Thanks.” Peter took another sip of his smoothie and drifted toward the couch. He didn’t want to intrude, but he also wanted to be closer to Tony. 

“C’mere, Pete,” Tony said, looking up. Peter sat down beside them, perching tentatively on the edge of the sofa. Morgan was mostly in Tony’s lap, and she eyed him distrustfully. “Morgan, have you met Peter?” She nodded. “Did you know that he’s the same Peter as the stories I told you?”

The wary look she’d been casting him suddenly transformed. Her eyes widened. “You’re Spiderman?”

Peter blinked. “Um. Yeah?”

She sat up. “You’re Daddy’s favorite superhero! You’re the strongest and also the nicest.”

Peter flushed. “I don’t know about that.”

“It’s true! Daddy said so. Wait here!” She shoved her mostly finished sandwich at Tony and climbed down, then went running out of the room. 

Peter eyed Tony. “What have you been telling her?” 

“Only the truth, kid,” Tony replied, reaching over to ruffle the hair on the back of Peter’s head. He pulled Peter in closer, and Peter shifted over, sliding under Tony’s arm. Tony turned his head and rested his forehead against the side of Peter’s head. Peter heard the faint _click_ of a cell phone camera. 

Morgan came careening back in, a picture frame in her hands. She climbed onto the sofa and into Tony’s lap. “Look,” she said, handing it to Peter. 

There were definitely more photos being taken. Peter ignored them steadfastly in favor of looking at the picture. There were four figures in it, as far as he could tell, but they were mostly giant blobs of color. 

“Can you tell Peter about the picture?” Tony prompted her. 

“That’s Daddy,” Morgan said, pointing to a yellow-and-red blob. “And that’s me,” she pointed to a much smaller purple-and-brown blob, “and that’s Spiderman!” She pointed to a red-and-blue blob. She paused, staring at the picture. “And that’s Mommy,” she said, in a much quieter voice, pointing to the fourth figure, who had orange hair. She looked up at him. “Daddy used to say you were my brother who died, but you were still my brother. And now Mommy died, but she’s still my mommy. Right?”

Peter had no idea why she was looking to him for confirmation, but he nodded. “Right. She’ll always be your mom. My, um.” Peter cleared his throat. “My mom and dad died when I was about your age, and they’re still my mom and dad. But I had my Aunt May and Uncle Ben, and later I had your dad and Happy. You’ll have them, too.”

“And you?” she asked, holding the picture to her chest. 

Peter managed a smile. “And me, too,” he said, reaching out to push a strand of dark hair behind her ear. 

A drop of water landed on Morgan’s nose. Peter glanced at Tony and saw that he had tears streaming freely down his cheeks. Morgan looked up, too, craning her neck back. “Daddy,” she said, “what’s wrong?”

Tony gave a shaky laugh. “Dad’s just having a lot of feelings, that’s all.”

“Sad feelings?”

“Some of them. Some are happy.” Tony planted a rather damp kiss on Morgan’s forehead. “From the time you were born, I wished you could meet Peter. So I’m really happy the two of you are here, and I’m happy to be here with you. I’m just also very, very sad that Mom isn’t here, too.”

“Me too,” Morgan said, snuggling into Tony’s chest. 

“But Peter’s right,” Tony said, drawing a shaky breath. “We’ve got people who love us. And Mom still loves us, too, wherever she is. People don’t stop loving us just because they’re not here anymore.”

He looked at Peter as he said it. Peter’s throat was already tight in sympathy, and he ducked his head, hiding his face against Tony’s shoulder. Tony pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead, and Morgan threw her legs across Peter’s lap, completing the circle. 

Someone––probably May––took another photo. Peter tried to be annoyed and couldn’t. This one he’d want for himself, to remind him of the moment––the exact moment––he became a big brother. 

***

That night, Peter found himself wakeful and restless. He tossed and turned for a while, but finally gave up around two, deciding that if he was going to be awake, he might as well embrace it. 

The living room was dark and empty. He thought about turning the TV on, but he didn’t want to risk waking anyone else. He got a glass of water and drank it standing in front of the big picture windows that looked out at the water. 

It was a still, cool night. He finished his water and put the glass in the sink, then slipped out the front door, walking barefoot down the path to the dock. 

He wasn’t expecting to find Tony there. Peter slowed when he saw him and thought about simply turning around and going back inside; Tony was sitting at the end of the dock, leaning with his back against a post, staring out at the inky blackness of the lake. He looked like he didn’t want to be disturbed. 

Before Peter could decide to go, Tony turned his head. “Pete? That you?”

“Hey,” Peter said quietly, coming further down the dock. “Sorry. Do you, um. Do you want to be alone?”

“Not particularly,” Tony said, and moved his legs, making room for Peter. Peter sat down, leaning against a post of his own. He rested a hand on Tony’s ankle. 

“Can’t sleep?” Tony asked him after a minute. Peter shook his head. Tony looked out at the lake again. “When we first bought the house, Pep and I used to come out here when we couldn’t sleep. We’d sit here and look at the water. Talk if we felt like it. Then we had Morgan, and suddenly if we weren’t sleeping it was because we were walking a fussy baby up and down the hall all night long.” Tony smiled a little, and Peter did, too, at the image. 

“It’s a nice spot,” Peter said. “Peaceful.”

“Yeah, it is.” Tony sighed, tipping his head back. “I love this house. But I don’t know if I can live here without her.”

“Maybe don’t... decide right away,” Peter said. “Wait six months before you do something drastic. Because you can always sell the house, but you can’t unsell the house.”

“I probably could, actually. But I take your point.”

Peter squeezed Tony’s ankle. “I meant what I said before.”

Tony sighed. “Kid, you’re not––this isn’t your job.”

“Then I’m volunteering for it anyway,” Peter replied with a shrug.

Tony looked at him for a long time. Finally he asked, “Why?”

Peter shrugged again. He looked out at the lake so that he wouldn’t have to watch Tony’s face when he answered. “Because I love you. Because I lost five years with you that I can never get back, but maybe I can at least make up for some of them. Because the entire universe owes Pepper Potts a debt of gratitude that it can never repay, but I can do this. I want to do this. For you, for Morgan, for Pepper. But also for me.”

He paused for a second, throat closing up around the words. He had to swallow twice before he could go on. “Things are so different,” he finally managed. “I mean, there’s Morgan, obviously, but also... May’s not wearing her wedding ring anymore. She’s with Happy. And that’s okay,” he added, a little awkwardly. “It’s... good even. But it’s also... it’s weird. So I don’t mind the idea of a time-out so much. To get my feet under me. This seems like a nice place to do that. And I really don’t want to be alone.”

“You’re not alone, kid,” Tony said in a hoarse voice. “Never.” Peter looked up at him finally, and saw that he had tears slipping down his cheeks again, silvery in the moonlight off the water. He swallowed and swiped at his face. “Sorry,” Tony said, and gestured at his damp cheeks. “I think this is just gonna happen for a while.”

“It’s okay,” Peter said. “Will you let me?”

Tony let out a long breath. “I shouldn’t.”

Peter shook his head. “That’s not the question. Will you?”

Tony stared at him for a long time. Finally, he nodded. “Yeah. I will.”

“Thanks,” Peter said, relaxing back against his post. 

“Pretty sure that’s my line, kid.”

Peter shook his head. “I don’t know how I would’ve coped if you’d pushed me away.”

That seemed to finally sink in. Tony looked at him, really looked at him, maybe for the first time since Peter had sat down on the dock. “Jesus, kid, I’m sorry. I haven’t had the bandwidth to think about anyone else, but it has to be rough on you. And the rest of the world...”

“Don’t worry about it,” Peter said. “You’ve earned the right to leave it to other people.”

“I should argue with that, but I just can’t right now.” Tony shook his head. “I hope you know what you’re signing up for, kid. This isn’t going to be all sunshine and roses. There’s going to be really bad days. Like, unimaginably bad, probably. Morgan––God. I don’t even know what to do for her.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“It’s not going to be that easy, kid.”

Peter couldn’t help a bit of exasperation from leaking into his sigh this time. “I never said it was going to be easy, Tony. Just that we’d figure it out. Hey.” He waited until Tony looked at him. “I get it,” he said, with emphasis. “Stop trying to talk me out of it. You’re not going to scare me off or make me change my mind. This is what I want. Do you trust me?”

“Yeah.” Tony swallowed. It looked painful. “I do trust you.”

He stopped trying to talk Peter out of staying after that. They both stopped talking at all, in fact, staring out at the water. Peter felt a sense of melancholy peace settle over him. Across from him, Tony had closed his eyes. Peter took a deep breath and let it out. 

He hoped Tony didn’t sell the house. He thought he might really like it here. 

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Odds that I will write more in this universe are pretty high. I'm intrigued by the possibilities.


End file.
